A Bad Day For Vernon Dursley
by Sheila Chiaroscura
Summary: Vernon Dursley buys an answering machine, and the Weasley twins have come up with a brilliant idea... What could possibly go wrong? Please R


A/N: A huge thank you goes to Bethselamin for translating this story from German into English!

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter characters are not mine, they belong to J.K. Rowling.

**A Bad Day For Vernon Dursley**

Harry grinded his teeth, sighed and stretched, yawning, when he lifted his eyes from his potions essay. It was already after midnight, and apart from him, there were only the Weasley twins left in the Gryffindor common room. Hermione had gone to bed, not without explaining to Harry in detail that he'd had one week's time to write his essay and now that he had delayed it to the very last moment he would definitely not copy it from her. Some minutes later, a deeply frustrated Ron had scuffled up the stairs to the boys' dormitories.

Harry stood up and wanted to leave towards the circular staircase when Fred - Harry was 51 per cent sure that it was Fred – waved him towards him.

"Harry", he began seriously.

"You are our man", George added solemnly.

"After all, you gave us 1000 galleons – the whole prize from the Triwizard Tournament!"

"Whole lotta money…"

"And we really used it well", Fred assured.

"But it really is a shame how expensive joke items are these days, not to mention all the ingredients..."

"And of course Mundungus enjoys cheating us."

Harry began to understand. "And you think that I can help you to get at more galleons?", he asked.

"Absolutely", said Fred, and a triumphant grin appeared on his face. "After all, you're Harry Potter..."

"And we have just developed the perfect plan", George completed, beaming. „All you have to do is write something down..."

Vernon Dursley was highly content with himself. He and his wife Petunia had spent the weekend with Vernon's sister, they had returned yesterday night. He had taken the day off for once; Petunia had just left to change a cyclamen-coloured gown for a pink gown. Dudley was in school. The only shadow on the horizon was that his wayward nephew would return from his dubious school for lunatics tomorrow – but that was still a day away, and Vernon Dursley lived in the here and now.

Vernon was whistling gleefully while he looked through his mail and opened his newspaper. He was still very content with his newest investment. It would make his work a lot easier when he decided to stay home for a day – the Dursleys' brand-new answering machine.

When Vernon had finished his breakfast and his newspaper, he set to work. He fetched his toolbox and started to attach a wall mirror in the hall. The mirror was supposed to replace the framed photo which had been hanging there until lately, because for Petunia's taste too many visitors had asked why the photo was too small for the frame and said that it almost looked as if a quarter of the photo had been cut off. This was, of course, nonsense, as Petunia assured repeatedly, as there were only three family members in Privet Drive No 4, so what could there possibly be to hide?

Vernon knocked in the nails in an unconventional way. Some years before, he had had to realise – wiping small pieces of strawberry from his chin – that fruitcake was not necessarily suited for knocking in nails. So now he was happily engaged in driving the stubborn nails into the wood with the help of a marshmallow packet, when he suddenly noticed the flashing red light on the answering machine.

He strolled over to the little table on which he had put the machine to listen to the messages.

"You have… fif-teen… new messages", a cool woman's voice informed him. After the beep, he heard the greeting that he had recorded with his family.

"Hello! This is Vernon-", his own voice roared.

"- Petunia, and-", his wife continued excitedly. There was a short pause.

"... Oh right, and Dudley Dursley!", his son concluded the introduction.

"We are currently not available, leave a message!", Vernon's voice barked.

A penetrating beep followed… and a shock for Vernon Dursley…

"Hi! This is Fred-"

"- and George Weasley! Maybe you remember us – Last summer you were so kind as to welcome us in your home!" Vernon did not recognize the voice; it sounded happy and carefree and threw him into a state of panic.

"Anyhow, we just wanted to ask how you're doing…"

"... and do a little promotion at that! You see, we're planning to open a joke shop in the near future."

"Puking Pastilles, Nosebleed Nougat, U-No-Poo – everything your heart desires!"

"So if you're interested, don't hesitate to stop by!"

"And don't forget to bring your son Dudley!"

"We're looking forward to seeing you!"

With this, the message ended, but before you could hear hooting laughter for the tenth of a second.

Vernon stared at the answering machine as if it might explode any moment or turn into a giant scorpion. But there was already another beep, and a new voice shouted against him.

"Hello! This…is…Ron…Weasley! I…am…a…friend…of…Harry…Potter's!" More quietly, the caller could be heard in the background: "Is this working? Hey, Fred, am I loud enough?" Then, the voice continued: "I…only…wanted…to…check…if…dad's…new…telephone…works! Goodbye!"

There was a muffled "Good volume, dear brother!" and the answer: "Well, I couldn't have shouted any louder anyway!"

Vernon was white as chalk by now. What was happening here? The next message was not exactly edifying either.

"Hello! This is Harry's godfather! You already know, I'm a convicted murderer, but I always find the time to make sure that Harry has a good time in his holidays! I hope you treat him well, otherwise…! - No, Moony, I'm not threatening anybody! That's just an experiment… - And if you're wondering how I got this number, that was an excellent idea from Harry! I can really be proud of my godson. - Moony, that's not childish at all! I'm just assuring that these muggles won't treat Harry as bad as they used to. No, and this doesn't seem unprofessional, at least it wouldn't if you stopped interrupting me all the time! – And don't forget, I broke out of the wizard prison, I also can –"

At this point, the connection broke. A furious Vernon snorted indignantly, was somebody threatening him?

After the next beep, a dreamy, female voice could be heard.

"Good day! I'm a friend of Harry Potter's, and as I got his number and he said I should feel free to call, I wanted to try and reach you! If you are Harry's relatives, my daddy wants me to tell you something, because he publishes the Quibbler, that's a magazine… He would be really happy if you as Harry's aunt and uncle could give him an exclusive interview, talk a little bit about Harry's childhood, which cornflakes he prefers for breakfast and how he was doing when he rode a bike for the first time, you know… Or maybe there are other interesting anecdotes from Harry's past? And if you could casually confirm that even you as muggles have already seen a crumple-horned snorkack, this could boost the profits! Oh, and for this interview, daddy would let you have some special gifts that many people would scramble to get! Have a nice day!"

Beep!

"This is Professor Severus Snape! Is this the number of Harry Potter's relatives? If so – Potter, if you think that this is an appropriate way to earn money, then I feel sorry for you! Just like your father, he too always thought that his fame is enough, that he didn't have to do anything more to be worshipped by the entire world. The headmaster has instructed me to investigate this matter and – one moment, he also wanted me to tell you something –" At this moment, there was an unbelieving snort,

"The hydrangeas in Privet Drive number four bloom gorgeously!"

Beep!

"This is Malfoy! So famous Potter has found himself a new possibility to be in the focus of attention once again! Do you really think that people are dying to call your dirty muggle relatives? It's difficult enough to get your hands on a… telephone in the wizarding world! And just for your information, Potter, I have your number now, and I can sell it just as well as those Weasleys can! We'll see what my father makes of it…"

After the next beep!, there was a message which made Vernon's heart leap for joy, which made his face assume colour again and sparked his hopes that there still might have been "normal" people calling him.

"Good day! This is the survey team of the Department of Health! Dear Mr. Dursley, we would be pleased if you could participate in our survey about eating habits in Great Britain! This survey only takes a few minutes of your time and can help improving our country! Simply dial the number 0123/11111 for only 50 pence per minute!"

Beep!

"This is your survey team! If you have participated in the survey about eating habits in Great Britain, perhaps you are interested in participating in further surveys as well! This includes, among others, surveys about the following topics: The frequency of your dental visits, your personal sleeping habits on weekends, and your habits concerning the consumption of organic food, dental floss and alcoholic beverages! Thank you for your time!"

The next call, however, put Vernon's just regained self-control to an acid test. A high, cold voice sounded from the loudspeaker.

"Relatives of Harry Potter! This is the Dark Lord! I only use this unworthy muggle communication tool to tell you: I know where you live! When you leave the house and walk down the street for the next time, we will be there! This is what Lord Voldemort has been waiting for all this time! Finally, he found out Harry Potter's weak point."

In the background, a muffled woman's voice said: "My Lord, we're running out of money! We shouldn't have used a public… te-le-phone booth!"

"Silence, Bella!" the first voice snarled, "Use another summoning charm, take another muggle's wallet… Lord Voldemort will touch Harry Potter, the boy who lives, to the quick by letting his family suffer a slow torture death!" After this statement, the connection got lost and was replaced by a static hissing.

Vernon became ashen-faced as he broke out in sweat and sank into the nearest chair, unable to take his eyes from this damned answering machine.

Beep! "This is Snape once again. The Dark Lord wants me to deliver the message that he is on his way. In my estimation, however, it might take a while; he has just changed his plans and intends to reach your house via the floo network. Unfortunately, he decided to take some of his death eaters with him. It is bound to go wrong if the Dark Lord, Bellatrix, Wormtail, Crabbe and Goyle are all in the same house and try to use the fireplace simultaneously."

Another threatening beep.

"It's Snape – again", an extremely ill-humoured voice said. "My Master is now planning to apparate to Little Whinging. Sadly, the Dark Lord left the preparation and navigation to Wormtail who, I fear, misinterpreted the map. Actually, the Dark Lord and his death eaters apparated to a region in Ecuador completely unknown to them. The Dark Lord has just declared that he will defer the obliteration of the Dursley family… to a subsequent date."

Vernon's knees shivered with relief, his brain was still trying to process this information.

Beep!

"Hello! This is Hermione Granger, a friend of Harry's. I just wanna ask you to tell Harry to return my book immediately! It's really important to me, you know. If he doesn't want to read it, he should just tell me; I, for one, think that 'Hogwarts, A History – Special Edition' is very interesting. Oh, and if I were you, I'd change my telephone number. Goodbye!"

Beep! A harrumph. "Er, hello, Uncle Vernon! It's Harry. Maybe you've already gotten some calls, Fred and George had this great idea to sell my phone number to Hogwarts students. It worked really well, they earned quite a lot! But the headmaster thinks that this whole thing got out of control and advises you to change your number. And he told me to apologise. See you!"

Vernon's eyes had widened to the size of plates at this point, a vein at his forehead was throbbing.

Beep! "Hello, Mr. Dursley! This is Fiona. I'm really very sorry to bother you on your day off, but we really need you here in the firm. You know, we had a power blackout this morning and now the coffee machine, the photocopier and two phones don't work anymore! Just imagine, the coffee machine! To crown it all, some colleagues thought today's the official 'Bring your child to work' day, and these children seemed to think today's 'Bring your pet to school' day. I really don't know how this could happen, but there's two cats, a Great Dane, a hamster and three gerbils on the loose here! We urgently need your help!"

Beep!

Vernon stood up shakily. What he needed now was a strong coffee – or a cognac.


End file.
